Round In Circles
by borderfame-sabrestar
Summary: DM/HG:2/10 Hermione wonders if Draco isn't all that he seems, and when he actually apologises to her she tries to figure out what he's up to.


More Dramione songfics, you say? Why yes! And what makes it even better is that I should be doing homework. Heh heh heh, as Voldemort would say. Far too much fun to be allowed to happen, these things. I am having so much fun. Hope you enjoy reading! This one has the song Round In Circles by All Time Low, one of my favourite ATL songs and it fits this couple brilliantly. Enjoy :)**  
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><p><strong>Round in Circles<strong>

_Draco/Hermione_

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><p>"No one asked your opinion… you filthy little <em>Mudblood<em>!"

Hermione's heart lurched and she thought she was about to be sick. She tried to speak but no words came out. Even after the past year, with Draco's relentless hatred of Harry and Ron, Hermione hadn't thought he was a bad person. She just thought he was misunderstood, and Ron often asked her why – but she couldn't explain it. Sometimes she'd catch him looking at her when he thought she wasn't watching. She wondered if perhaps he was simply confused, unsure of how he should go about himself.

_Inquisitive and thoughtful,  
>She was the challenge he'd been waiting for<em>

But as Ron had so often said, he was a Slytherin. He was always going to be. And Hermione had thought he was different – until now. Of course, the horror of the situation was placed on hold as Ron proceeded to vomit slugs for the next few hours, and the Slytherins laughed at them as they scurried off to Hagrid's hut, Hermione desperately trying to withhold her tears.

_A reminder that creativity runs deep, like secrets_

Of course she knew what the word meant. It was a horrid word but she had been informed by Professor McGonagall when she asked what it meant that some wizards were under the impression that nobility was based on purity of blood. Hermione had been confused by this at first but it made sense. Pure bloods were probably just jealous because they'd worked so hard to become powerful and magical, and – well, Hermione was, to put it bluntly, lucky.

_Dark eyed dreamers - they were a dangerous pair  
>"Q" next to "U", scribbled out on paper<em>

But Hermione's brief encounters with Malfoy made her think that he wasn't so bad, after all. He might be cruel and unusual, but she thought it was an act. She thought he was just pretending to be bad because everybody expected that of him. They'd actually shared a smile or two when nobody else was watching – once they had been the last ones to put their broomsticks away after their flying lesson and Hermione had managed to stumble over the boxes of repair kits in the broom shed, and fallen down. She had expected Malfoy to sneer and laugh at her, but instead he gave her a timid half-smile and held out his hand to help her up. The small act of kindness had changed the way Hermione saw him.

_They stop, they go, they're done_

Later on that night, after Harry, Ron and Hermione had come back from Hagrid's hut, they had returned to the common room, where Hermione proceeded to finish her homework and the boys proceeded to play exploding snap with Seamus and Dean.

_Go back to the place we knew before  
>Retrace our steps to the basement door<em>

Hermione scowled at them a few times when the deck of cards exploded, and she tried to concentrate on her homework but by the time the Weasley twins arrived with their new set of fanged Frisbees, Hermione knew she'd never get any work done at that rate. She slammed her book shut and shoved it in her bag, and when Harry called out after her to ask where she was going, she didn't even turn around to respond.

_I'll ask you if the rain still makes you smile_

"Library," she called back, before stepping out of the portrait and making her way down the stairs and corridors towards the library. It was her favourite place to be, a lot of the time. The boys were nice but they were, well, boys, and the girls preferred to giggle about the boys rather than talk about anything remotely interesting. So Hermione found a lot of her time was spent with books.

_Like so much time that we spent in the fall  
>Put colour in our cheeks while the air turned cold<em>

Hermione was only a few corridors away from the library, when she saw somebody step out from the bathroom door about twenty metres in front of her, and when he saw her his silver eyes went wide.

_Preceding what became our bitter end_

Hermione stopped in her tracks. Malfoy's platinum hair looked messy, as though he'd just had a shower after Quidditch practice, and he was watching her carefully, as though he expected her to get out her wand and attack him. Hermione actually did consider it – she'd read about some lovely spells which would give him the most horrible itching.

Before she could seriously consider it, though, Malfoy stepped towards her, gulped and said, "Hermione, can – can we talk?"

Hermione blinked at the sound of her name. She hadn't expected him to be so… polite. But her anger from their previous conversation still burned brightly, and she snapped to cover her shaky voice, "Why should I talk to you, Malfoy?"

_Round in circles, let's start over_

She moved to stride past him but he reached out and grasped onto her sleeve. "Hey, let go!" Hermione exclaimed, tugging away from him, well prepared to hit him with a book.

When Malfoy saw her hold her book up above her head, he cringed. "Okay, don't do that," he said, "Just please let me say something to you?"

Hermione didn't lower the book, but simply raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Well?"

Draco swallowed again, as though he were nervous. "I – I just wanted to – apologise. For calling you a – um –"

"A mudblood?" Hermione finished for him. "I didn't think you'd be sorry about that, Malfoy, you seemed perfectly happy to wound my pride in front of all of my friends, not to mention your Quidditch team."

"Yes, but I didn't mean it," said Draco, and for a moment Hermione saw something in his eyes which wasn't fear, or hate, but it was – something else.

_Unanswered questions  
>Would be the only thing to stop them now<em>

Hermione felt her hand lowering, the heavy book hanging in her arm as it fell. She stared at Draco with a frown on her face, trying to figure out what it was he was doing – when she realised he wasn't up to something.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you?" Hermione asked quietly, and Draco nodded.

"I really didn't want to say anything, but it was my first Quidditch practice, and when you stood up for your friends I thought – I thought I'd have to stand up for myself," he finished, his excuses pathetic. "I didn't want to call you that but Flint said that you were one, and I knew he'd think I was weak if I just let you walk all over me."

_He was the poet, while she was the muse  
>She had a pen that she knew how to use<em>

Hermione stared at him. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, or seeing for that matter. There was no slimy sneer on his face, he wasn't looking down at her like he always did. He looked like a scared little boy. It was strange, it was like he was exposing himself to her.

_A touch of redemption, a hint of elation_

"I'm sorry," he said. "I hate that I called you that. I don't mind if you decide to hate me."

To her own surprise, Hermione shook her head, and she said, "Don't be silly, I can't just decide that I hate you. I either do or I don't."

Draco blinked. "So – do you?"

"No."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thankyou, Hermione, I'm so glad that –"

"I feel sorry for you."

_A recipe for disaster._

They both paused and the silence was heavy as they looked at each other. Had anybody walked past at that moment they might have simply left it at sorry, okay, see you later, but nobody was there and Hermione didn't feel as though she could not say what she was thinking.

_Go back to the place we knew before  
>Retrace our steps to the basement door <em>

"What?"

"I feel sorry for you," she repeated. "It's like – like you have to be somebody you're not. It's not right that you should have to lie about what you're thinking, and say things you don't mean because other people expect you to. I don't think you deserve that."

_I'll ask you if the rain still makes you smile_

Draco managed a weak smile before he tried to say, "Hermione, that's not – I mean, that's got nothing to do with it. I'm not being cruel to you because I have to, it's – it's because –"

_Like so much time that we spent in the fall  
>Put colour in our cheeks while the air turned cold<em>

His sentence trailed off and they both knew that Hermione was right. It was only Draco who wasn't prepared to admit it. Hermione waited for him to say something, to sigh and tell her she was right, because she always was, and then she thought well he might as well apologise for every other time he's been mean to me, too.

_Preceding what became our bitter end_

But he didn't. Instead, he said to her, "Look, can we just – can I just say that anything I say to you in front of my friends doesn't count. Okay, if there's anybody else there, it – it cancels it out."

Hermione frowned. "So you're only being totally honest when you're alone with me, is that right?"

"Yeah," said Draco, with a small smile. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

_Let this be a lesson to us all_

"What about in front of my friends?" asked Hermione. "Does that cancel it out too?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, that counts. Our – our friendship has to be a secret."

"Friendship?" Hermione echoed, a little taken aback, before she realised she was about to hurt his feelings, and she had to quickly follow it up with, "Well, I suppose it is a friendship, isn't it?"

_Round in circles, let's start over_

And then Hermione saw Draco smile and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. He was always so tough, his exterior so ugly when he played the part of the Slytherin bad-boy, but now, in this moment, she saw something she wasn't sure she'd seen before on Draco's face. It was happiness.

_Round in circles_

"You have a lovely smile," she said before she realised what she was doing, and suddenly a hot red blush flooded her cheeks and she looked down at the floor, wishing she hadn't said it.

"I – do I?"

Hermione glanced back up from beneath her fringe. "Yes," she said.

Draco smiled again, and then he laughed. Hermione couldn't help it – she laughed with him. "You know, nobody has ever told me that before?" said Draco. "That's wonderful."

_Let's start over_

Hermione smiled back at him. "So no matter what you say about me or my blood, you're really my friend, aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Draco. "I really don't care about your blood or your status or your family."

"Really?"

_Round in circles_

"Yeah, really."

Hermione placed her book back in her bag. "I guess I'll just have to ignore all your horrid comments, Malfoy." She smiled, and he knew she was having a joke.

"Fair enough, Granger," he replied, crossing his arms. "I suppose I'll see you around then."

_Round in circles_


End file.
